


Love like a River

by Lovebeauty01



Series: Drabbles & Ficlets! [1]
Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 11:22:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6421942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovebeauty01/pseuds/Lovebeauty01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My first shorty one shot ficlet! Thanks to the wonderful "Dandelion-Sunset" on Tumblr for the beautiful picture of Katniss/ Peeta. I might start a drabble ficlets when I have writer's block on W2WC. I just hope she doesn't kick my ass for using it. I found it through Google.<br/>NOTE! I WILL take it down if there's a problem. </p><p>Don't really have a summary for it...Just read it. It's a drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love like a River

 

 

It’s 2am and we’re asleep. Or at least I thought we were asleep. Last night had been a rough night for Peeta. He had finally tacked up and went to where the bakery once stood. I didn’t want to follow him, but I did it anyway. The memory of his Father trading with me every other day was painful enough.

It was more painful that Prim wasn’t here.

I watched as the man I had only begun to fall in love with crumple to the ground and sob. Hard, unforgiving sobs that wracked his entire frame. I couldn’t do anything but stand there and cautiously creep toward him. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I stood there silently. People had finally stopped milling around looking at the scene. Neither of us had been here when it happened but we were allowed to grieve, weren’t we?

When we returned home, Peeta left me and locked himself in his studio. The house felt silent and lonely without his presence. I went on about my daily activities knowing that when he was ready he would emerge from the studio and seek me out. Like he always did. Every so often, I would become curious and lean my ear against the door. Sometimes I would hear sobs, or muffled screams. Even worse, when I would hear a rasping voice that wasn’t his.

He was in the middle of a flashback and he had locked himself away from me. The one person that half of him would always blame for the death of his family and his District. Even though it was one of the worst and poorest Districts, it was still home to us. I remember the days, weeks after he was rescued from the Capitol. I remember my cowardice of not being able to face him when he flashbacked.

How I was afraid of him….even then. My Peeta. One of the gentlest and kindest creatures on this planet. They took that and warped it into something dark and evil. I know none of it was his fault, but the rational half of my mind didn’t see it like that. My mind saw a tortured soul, like myself, but my heart knew that Peeta was in there somewhere. That we were going to be OK, somewhere deep inside. If only I had the courage to believe that then.

Night had finally fallen upon Victor’s Village and the door was still locked. Was he protecting himself or me? I had half a mind to call up Haymitch but I know all he would tell me would be to give Peeta some time. I knew that Peeta would never self harm. It wasn’t his nature to hurt himself but to take care of others.

It’s why I’m the selfish bitch between the two of us. Running my finger over the scar mark of my left wrist, I vaguely remember the night I did that to myself. It was one of the worst nights. A double whammy. I had seen something that reminded me of Prim, yet it screamed Peeta. Peeta, who was still in the Captiol at the time, for treatment. While I was here in District 12, alone and imprisoned in my own mind.

The shower that night was lonely. We haven’t progressed as far as showering together but I knew he would be close by when I did. And vice versa. But tonight he was locked away in his own mind. The horrors of his own torture coming back to haunt him. And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

Rummaging through the drawers, I found a pair of soft stretch material pants and one of Peeta’s shirts. Granted, I was swimming in it, but I didn’t care. His scent swirled around me. Comforting me like it was the real thing before me. Traipsing down the hall, I sat down in front of the studio. Leaning against the wall, the only light shining in the hallway was from our room. The room where we would sleep and keep the nightmares at bay.

At least for a little while.

I could hear the shuffling of feet and movement in the room, so I know he was still in there. I never heard a crash so I knew that he hadn’t destroyed anything. He could be in there for hours for all I know. When the clock from the living room chimed 10pm, I yawned and rose to my feet. Placing my hand on the door, I resisted the urge to knock. I wanted him to know that I was there for him. That I wasn’t going anywhere.

But I was too afraid that I would send him in another flashback. He was strong, he could break through the door if he wanted. I’ve seen him do more than that. Sighing, I lowered my head and walked the mile long walk back to our room where I crawled in bed. Flipping off the night lamp, I curled under the covers.

I didn’t cry. I think I used up all my tears when I returned home. There were none left. Or at least I think there were none left. Laying there in the dark, with my acute sense of hearing, I could occasionally hear a noise from the studio. It bothered and comforted me.

Finally, I don’t know when, I fell asleep. Alone in the bed that we shared, all I know is that I had stolen his pillow and wrapped it close to me. Holding it like he would hold me at night. His love for me was like a river that ran deep. It flowed out of him and into me. Helping me, healing us both. Of course we would never be quite healed. If ever.

Sometime around 2am, I felt the bed move. Awake and alert, I sat up in bed and saw Peeta sitting on the side of the bed. His shoulders slumped over in defeat. In exhaustion. I don’t know how long he managed to do this tonight, but I could tell that he was beyond tired. Rolling into the bed, I reached cautiously for him.

Gathering him in my arms, he laid his head down on my chest and I wrapped my arms around him. He wasn’t fighting me now. He was close to me. One hand came to cradle his head into my chest and I could feel the unsteady breathing of his chest going up and down against my arm.

I felt love and strength pour out of me. Passing it to him, like a river. Hoping that he would receive it. I felt him sigh and his body shifted until he was comfortable. Leaning my head against the bedframe, I held him while he was falling asleep.

Before I dozed off myself, I heard him whisper. “You love me. Real or not real?”

  
A smile ghosted my face and I leaned down to kiss his hair. “Real.”


End file.
